


Out of Step

by droid_girl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Companionable Snark, F/M, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/droid_girl/pseuds/droid_girl
Summary: After he loses Donna, and after he experiences his brief moment as the Time Lord Victorious on Mars, the Doctor finds himself surprised in a way he never expected.First of all, who was Clara Oswald, and how was she flitting between all over time and space? Why won't she give him a single straight answer, and most of all - honestly - did she ownanysensible clothing, or was it all high heels and short skirts?OR: The Doctor finally finds a mystery he can't solve, in a woman who is more than his matchPost "Hell Bent" when Clara has her own TARDIS
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 16
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue: Echo

There was a space in his head he didn't recognize. 

One would think after eons of existence, that random spaces made up of forgetting would be inevitable, and yet...

Yet this space was significant, in a way he didn't quite understand. 

Standing on a hillside with his TARDIS overlooking what appeared to be the beginnings of a village, he looked out upon what they would one day call the Atlantic, and tried - not for the first time - to fill in the blanks. 

Shoving his hands into his pinstriped pockets, the Doctor breathed in the scent of the ocean...and of orchids and bergamot. 

"You seem like a man with a heavy heart," the girl-woman smiled up at him. 

Something about her caused his brow to furrow. 

"Perhaps," he admitted freely even as he tried to parse the odd sense of familiarity coursing through his veins. "The truth is, I'm afraid I'm lacking something, though I honestly can't figure out _what_ exactly,"

Laughing softly, the girl-woman stepped beside him, and turned her dark gaze towards the waves lapping at the shore below them.

"You're a newcomer," she observed lightly, brushing away her nut brown hair. 

"Not true, I've visited many times," he quipped lightly. Just because he had seen the city it would become hundreds of years into the future didn't make his words untrue.

Not far away, in the village, a pyre was being built. They had started building it two days ago, shortly after he had landed. The locals had eyed him mistrustfully, and he had done nothing since to assuage their discontent.

Peering at him carefully over her left shoulder, the girl-woman raised a perfect brow. Studying her round cheeks, her high forehead and her full lips, the Doctor rescinded his earlier surmise of her age. 

"Perhaps it's best for you to visit someplace else. I hear that South of here is beautiful this time of year," 

"Beautiful is it?" he asked lightly, watching carefully as the salt breeze lifted the woman's dark tresses. 

"I hear that the air is forever warm down there. That the trees are eternally perfumed," she nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill. 

The ragged robe she wore to cover herself could not have given her the warmth she so obviously craved.

"I hear nobody goes hungry in those parts,"

"Come with me," the Doctor found himself stating impulsively. "Come with me and see it for yourself why don't you?"

Surprised, his companion took a step closer to him. 

"Come with you?" she asked, and he could see that the hunger was there. He could see that this woman hungered for something new, something she had never thought she wanted. 

"Come with me and I'll show you not only the South," he promised even as he extended a hand out towards her. "I'll show you lands that lie north, east and west of here, and more besides. I have...I have a steed that will take us anywhere,"

"I..." she started, and stopped. Slowly, her reluctant gaze drifted towards her village.

"I know you trust me, otherwise you wouldn't be out here warning me," he nodded back towards the village, towards the almost finished pyre.

"Was I being a bit too obvious?" she sounded a little embarrassed even as her lips tipped into a wry grin.

"I can bring you home any time," the Doctor held less conviction in his voice then. Ignoring the urge to wrap his long coat tighter around himself at the sudden chill racing down his spine, he kept his hand outstretched, waiting. 

"I should at least tell my dad that I have decided to leave. I wouldn't want him to think I've been stolen," 

The Doctor forced himself not to flinch at her choice of words.

"Come back tomorrow night. Wait for me in the forest beyond the village, and don't let them see you," she told him after a moment. In her eyes, he could see that she too had already made an impulsive yet solidified decision.

The Doctor owned a literal time and space machine. There was no logical reason why he wouldn't just wait a mere two minutes for her.

"I'll hold you to that," he nodded gleefully, rocking back and forth on his sneakers. 

Just as she began to turn away, he found himself asking, "What's your name"

Tossing him a happy smile, she said into the night,

"Clarus,"

  
***

The woods were dark and overhead, the brilliant Milky Way could only be seen in glimpses.

Taking a step towards the village, he heard the crackle of flames, and the murmur of angry voices. Out of that cacophony, he could pick out the sound of a grown man sobbing and raging.

Swallowing, the Doctor began to run.

***

It was hard to tell that the figure slumped on the pyre had once been a person, scorned as she was.

But the Doctor didn't need to look closer to know what had happened. All around him, the villagers glared hatefully at him, their weapons already creeping into view.

"Haven't you already sated the gods of this land with the blood you decided they wanted as tribute?" he snarled as he turned towards them.

"It was supposed to be you," someone shouted. "But since she saw fit to disrupt our plans, we decided she'd do,"

"I will not be blamed for this," the Doctor stated, ignoring the painful constriction in his chest. 

"No," a cracked voice called from behind him, stumbling out from behind the pyre. "The blame is not yours,"

The man's sunken eyes regarded the crowd balefully. 

"All of you were there the day Clarus was born. You watched as she grew from babe to child to woman," tears streamed down his wrinkled cheeks. "You murdered her,"

"It's not murder," someone protested. "You know the law. Before we can lay down crops, we must give the gods their due,"

The Doctor clenched his fists.

***

Clarus's father stood beside him on another hillside not far away from the village.

Below them, they listened and watched as Clarus's murderers screamed in fear and pain.

The raiders were cruel and merciless, and spared no one as they plundered what little the village had to offer. 

In the centre of it all, the pyre still smoked ever so slightly, but the Doctor did not feel one iota of satisfaction. 

"My daughter's sacrifice was wasted after all," the man beside him murmured. 

"She saved me," the Doctor said woodenly. "It was not for nothing she died,"

Though it wasn't as if he had even been a little bit worried for his own life; what were a few primitives with cudgels against him? The Time Lord Victorious?

"But it should have been you," her father insisted tonelessly, his arms hanging limply at his side. "Not her, never her. Gods can only tell what my Clarus must have done in another life to deserve her fate,"

Not sparing the mortal man another glance, the Doctor swept back towards the TARDIS and slammed the doors behind him. 


	2. Impossible

Despite his instincts, the Doctor blinked.

"Are you really just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to help me with this?" the woman demanded. "Doctor, this thing is going to blow up the entire planetary system this side of the galaxy in the next five minutes,"

On the streets above, the cacophony of war continued to rise. Inside the chamber they stood in, the device between the Doctor and his unexpected companion beeped loudly and incessantly.

"What?" he found himself asking, taking a step closer towards a woman he had last seen in another star system, in another time. His face twisted in deep consternation. "How..."

The Doctor took in a pair of ridiculously high heels and a red frock of which seemed altogether just a little too short for bomb-defusing shenanigans.

"No time to explain Doctor," she pointed something - a sonic something - at what was clearly a Nano-Nuclear Hydrepoxy Bomb. "I managed to disable the missiles in the next room. Lady Me...my compa...my _friend_ is currently storming the Luminary Emperor's palace but all of it will be for nothing if..."

"If this contraption isn't properly defused, yes, I know but I...you..." he stopped speaking and collected himself. 

Human genes passed down from generation to generation. Perhaps in the thousands of years between the shores of Tobermory, Scotland and the planets of the Algeris Nebula, some dominant gene from Clarus's line had miraculously surfaced.

Though how would that explain the Chanel heels Donna had been so mad for?

"I don't believe I introduced myself. How do you know who I am?" he demanded, putting on his spectacles to peer at the control panel of the NNHB. Irritably, he swept his coat aside.

"We've met," her lips twisted in a wry smile. "My name is Clara Oswald, but of course, you won't have remembered..."

"I promise, I would have remembered you," he reached for the wire which would defuse the ticking device.

"Are you sure that's the right wire?" Clara demanded. "Pulling the wrong one could kill all of us right where we..."

Before she could finish her sentence, he tugged hard at the green strand. The bomb stopped beeping abruptly.

Whipping off his glasses, he stared at her. 

"You _do_ remember me don't you? I don't understand how, or why _you_ , but it's true," she murmured as a strange wistfulness permeated her features. In the relative silence of the room, the Doctor could hear his twin hearts beating. 

"You weren't supposed to remember," 

" _You_ died in a town in Scotland, thousands of years before today. Before Scotland was even bloody _Scotland_ ," he couldn't stop himself.

A loaded silence fell between them. Unexpectedly, Clara began to laugh, though there seemed to be a sour note to her mirth. 

"Scotland. Of course. I suppose all's well with the universe after all," she tucked away her sonic device and made to leave. "It was nice to see you again Doctor,"

Before she could get very far, he had one delicate wrist grasped tightly in his hand. 

"Who are you?" he asked, wondering what it was about her that felt utterly off, outside of the fact that apparently, they knew each other. "Where are you from and how did you get here?"

"I told you, I'm Clara," her smile wavered, though it wasn't from fear. The way she looked at him. She wore the same expression he used to wear himself, every time he studied Rose, considering what days they realistically had left together. Back then, he hadn't actually realized how small that count truly had been...

"I'm from Earth," she added. "England, though I suppose you've already figured all that out, clever boy that you are,"

"Clara...Clarus..." he muttered. 

"As for how I got here, well, that's not really any of your business is it?" she dimpled charmingly up at him.

Without warning, the slight woman hopped up on her toes and pressed her lips to his left cheek. That gesture surprised him enough, he released his hold on her.

This time, she was much too quick even for his superior reflexes. As she scarpered, the Doctor ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a loud growl of frustration.


	3. Clara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An invitation is issued. A promise is made.

Another fight, another galaxy, another time. 

About three hundred and sixty two years, four months and two days since the incident on Algeris Nebula anyway, not that he was keeping track...

Though for him, personally, it had really only been about three weeks.

Running through the battle-ruined streets of Ashkelon City - a battle of which was only a precursor to a full blown civil war - the Doctor congratulated himself on leaving his trench coat behind that morning. It would only have tripped him up in his attempt to dodge laser projectiles and light grenades.

It was vital that everything went according to plan; if his plans worked, the civil war wouldn't happen at all...though if he failed. Well. That was a whole different story.

Ducking into a wreck of a building, the Doctor darted into the shadows, and waited for his hunters to pass him by. Those soldiers had gotten wind of the fact that he was integral in their recent failures. 

To be very fair, they had that idea in their heads because he had broadcast his intentions to break their insurgency all across their shortwave networks.

Peeking from behind a ruined wall at the armed figures searching for him, the Doctor wondered if perhaps he was about to hear four knocks...

"Psst! Over here!"

Swiveling his gaze, the Doctor caught sight of a small anxious face peeking at him from an alcove he had not noticed.

 _A mere boy_ , he realized in surprise. 

Moving as quietly as he could manage, the lanky Time Lord followed the retreating child through a warren of dark corridors. On and on they fled, up and then down, and then up again, until the sound of soldiers' boots could no longer be heard. Finally, in front of a formidable looking metal door, they stopped. 

The boy rapped at the door. Once. Twice.

On the third knock, the door opened, and the Doctor released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. 

Only to feel both his hearts stuttering to a stop.

"Danny! What are you...I told you not to..." 

Brown eyes widened in shock as they flew up to meet his own.

Between them, the boy - Danny - ran on ahead into the room behind the massive door.

Sucking in a deep breathe, the Doctor found his spirits rising unexpectedly. 

"Bigger on the inside is it?" he asked, peering deliberately over the shoulder of the person standing before him.

Rolling her eyes, Clara yanked him inside by his sleeve and shut the door.

***

"How the hell did you do this?" the Doctor looked around with burgeoning interest. 

"There's a bit of wiring involved. And a lot of duct tape. I managed to hack together some of the local tech to turn that door into a portal leading to another venue,"

Tilting his gaze, the Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets. "So what have you been up to then, since the Algeris Nebula?"

"Not a lot," Clara shrugged as she began organizing a cupboard full of supplies. "For me, that was only three months ago. In between then and now, my friend and I had a holiday in nineteen fifties Palm Springs,"

Strolling closer, he picked up a box of stitching supplies and studied it's label without really reading it. 

"How are you doing it?" he asked casually. "How are you flitting between time and space?"

"I told you before, it's not really any of your business is it?" she tossed him a brief, almost-careless glance.

"You said 'my friend’," he found himself moving closer to her. His fingertips brushed against the surface of the dusty table to his left. "You're not alone then,"

"No. My friend is seeing to another cell of refugees," Clara shook her head. Her hair was bound in a loose ponytail and she was in a yet another high-hemmed number that looked utterly out of place, considering the setting. The shoes she wore - they were the thinnest wedges he had ever seen in his entire existence. 

"Those shoes can't be comfortable," he observed. 

"My feet are killing me," she winced. "But they're absolutely gorgeous," 

"Seriously, tell me how you got here," he reached out to still her busy hands. After a moment wherein the both of them stood frozen, he continued amiably, "Tell me why you don't have a heartbeat, or why you don't breathe. Are you...are you actually human? I'm not sure I..."

"I'm trying to get this stuff sorted," she scolded gently, though she did not pull away from him. "I don't have time to go through all those details with you,"

Turning around to face him, her expression re-arranged itself ever so subtly.

"How do you do that?" he murmured, mesmerized despite himself. "How do you look heartbroken and happy at the same time?"

"Asking that ridiculous question again..." she stopped speaking as instant regret flooded her eyes.

" _Again_?" he tilted his head to one side. "Have we had this conversation before?"

"Someone else I knew...he was always confused by my ability to emote more than one thing at a time," Clara squeezed his fingers in her small hands and moved to release him. "Now if you'd let me get back to work. I have to care for..."

Tightening his hold on her ever so slightly, the Doctor leaned downwards. "You don't have to do anything. This battle is about to be over in ten minutes and after that, the fighting ought to stop. The calvary is already on its way,"

 _Orchids, bergamot and crystallized time_. That's what she smelled like. 

Clara's attention was now fully upon him. The Doctor felt a thrill of satisfaction at that understanding.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing that shouldn't have been done," he assured. "The government is about to be overthrown. The butchers who have bled their fellow citizens...they will be held to account by this time next week,"

"And..." her voice caught in her chest. "And these children. They'll be safe?"

For her, the Doctor thought impulsively, he'd keep them safe and alive, and damn anyone who thought to impugn on his will. 

"Yes," he nodded even as he drew her closer. "When this is all done, I think you should come with me. You...and your friend. I guarantee you, my road is safer,"

Deciding he could withstand her searching eyes, he waited for her answer...

Which turned out to be an undignified snort.

" _Safer_?” She laughed. “Doctor, who do you think you’re talking to? The entire universe knows your M.O.,”

Lips twitching the Doctor found himself amused and embarrassed - the latter of which he hadn't felt in centuries. Ruefully, he bobbed his head and swallowed. 

“I‘ll admit that wasn’t my smoothest invitation,”

"I'm afraid not," she informed him archly.

His thumb brushed against the still pulse point of her wrist. 

"You have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know who I am, but I have no idea who you are, though I'd very much like to change that,” 

“There are things I still have to do. I’ll find you whenever I’m done doing them,” she said after a long moment. 

“Is that a promise?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It very much is,” she nodded solemnly before she tiptoed upwards again, in order to press a peck against his cheek like she had done before.

Deliberately, though he’d never know why he had decided to do such a thing, he shifted slightly and met the corner of her mouth with his own.

“I’ll be holding you to that Clara Oswald,” he murmured. 

At the back of his mind, a voice kept repeating,

_Bad idea. Such a very bad idea..._

But weren't his bad ideas also always somehow the best?

Behind him, he could hear the children making small teasing noises about their Miss Clara. Their voices were high and nervous however, and their cheer was unmistakably strained.

Brushing his hand across her face, the Doctor pressed one last kiss to Clara's forehead, and sprinted towards the door.

He meant to witness his victory, after all.

***

  
The city square was still a mess, but he was already able to see a change in the atmosphere. As the citizenry took in the sticky aftermath of battle, he could hear a murmuring which became louder with every minute that passed. Smiles grew wider, and small, tentative traces of laughter could be heard.

If he wasn't much mistaken, there were even some children playing here and there.

Leaning against a small pillar which seemed just a little worse for wear, he wondered what it used to be before all the fighting and suffering had started. He supposed he could go backwards in time to find out for himself - though it was far more likely he'd go forwards a few years, to see what they had done with the place in general.

Idly, he supposed Clara and her friend might like to see how their own good work might have helped...

"Sir," a small hand tugged at his sleeve.

Glancing down, he found himself staring into a familiar little face. 

"Danny was it?" the Doctor crouched down so he could meet the boy's eyes. Somehow, he had an idea what he was about to find written on the small white slip in the child's hand. 

"That's right," Danny beamed at him. "Miss Clara asked me to give you this,"

"Where is she?" the Doctor asked, reluctantly taking the note from him. 

"She walked into a small building," Danny began to look confused. "Then the building itself disappeared. I'd never actually seen such a building before though..."

"What do you mean?" 

"I just mean it doesn't look like anything from around here," Danny shook his head. "I don't know how to describe it,"

"What else can you tell me about the building?" the Time Lord pressed. "Did it make a strange noise as it disappeared?"

"Sir, I have to get back to my mama," the child turned away. "She worries,"

Watching as the boy ran back into the healing city, the Doctor unfolded the note he'd been given.

_I told you, I have things to do. You'll see me again, I promise. Clara._

Re-reading her words a few times, the Doctor eventually tucked the note into his breast pocket. Looking upwards at the sky, shapes began to form in his rather formidable mind. 

Spaces in his mind began to be filled with blurry images.

"Clara Oswald, you're impossible," he muttered with another shake of his head.

"But if there's one thing I'm good at, it's solving the impossible,"


End file.
